Chill
by kennyylove
Summary: His eyes were the strangest shade of honey gold. Unwanted memories began to invade my mind. The murder, the creatures...Those eyes. I remembered the eyes of my father's killers.
1. One

**Chill**

_His eyes were the strangest shade of honey gold. Unwanted memories began to invade my mind. The murder, the creatures.....Those eyes. I remembered the eyes of my father's killers._

**A/N:** I started this story a long time ago, and posted it on quizilla. But sadly, because of something called a 'writer's block' and 'school' I had to stop. Darn. But now that I can post it here, and get your beautiful and inspiring reviews, I like fictionpress better(:!

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**O**_ne_

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Sweat was trickling down my temples. I was breathing was heavy. Tears were flowing down my cheeks. I couldn't describe the feeling running through my veins. Fear? Hate? Both? I felt unprotected, as if someone was going to pounce on me. The room was growing smaller, suffocating me. I couldn't take it anymore.

The dream was surreal. The screams of terror, the scenic murder, the creatures who slaughtered him, the blood oozing from the dead man's body...I couldn't bare it. How many times has this dream occured to me? Four? Five? No. More than that. And the dead man...He was my father. I was dreaming about his murder, six years ago. _My _father. The man that once told me that I could do anything I pleased. The man that I admired the most in the world. The man that raised me and _loved _me.

I remember the day clearly. He and I went hunting in the mountains, and everything was perfect. Until three blood-curdling creatures were infront us. Blood was flowing down their chins from their previous prey, and now WE were their dessert. My father told me to run, but I was too stubborn to tune in on his advice. It all happened so fast. He pushed me and the trio jumped on him. I remembered the sounds, my father's pleas of survival. But they never had a second thought. They were ruthless. Uncivilized. They were selfish, _too _selfish to even be alive. I was hiding behind a bush, and they never noticed me.

I heard _everything_. And I wish that I didn't have. I saw their damned faces. Their chins and shirts were soaked with _my _father's blood. Their eyes changed from honey gold to menacing red. They looked at their surroundings, and then, I heard a loud _CRACK! _I winced. The sound was so small, and it didn't hurt anyone. But it inwardly killed me. It was a sound I've never heard in real life, but only in the movies. You know, horror movies.

They vanished from the scene of the crime. Fools. They never saw me. Their sense of smell were dominated by the scent of blood. I crawled out of the bush, slowly to my father. His neck was broken, and warm red blood was oozing down his neck and wrists. I tried not to scream. I tried not to cry. I tried not to kill myself. You know you would, too. How would you feel if you just came home from school, and found everyone murdered in your house? Exactly. I remembered grabbing his cellphone and calling the police.

They told my mother that he was mauled by a bear. As if a bear was smart enough to break a neck? But I didn't disagree. I was traumatized by the sight of them carrying my father away in a stretcher. For months, I couldn't talk. I couldn't eat. I've been scared of blood ever since that day. I was frightened by the thought of one day, _they _would come. _They _would come and hurt someone, someone far away from me. Or maybe, they would attack me.

I slowly stepped towards my bathroom, feeling ridiculous. Why was I worried? I was in my house. No one threatening can ever hurt me while I'm in my home. My warm safe house.

My mother entered my room, looking for me.

After the murder of my father, she was a wreck. But my _single _doctor comforted her. And two years later, she got married. And I got two older stepbrothers. Timothy was always there for me, since we were the same age, him being slightly older. Alex was the oldest, and the most serious. Good thing he's in college.

"Charlotte?" she called out from the dark, "Are you okay, sweetheart?" Her voice was shaky and filled with worry. I couldn't blame her. Ever since the incident, it was as if my dreams were being dominated by the wretched nightmares.

I looked up from where I was on my bed, and lazily waved at her.

"I'm right here, Mom," I paused, taking in a deep breath, "I'm fine. It was just another nightmare," I never realized that my voice was so raspy and shaky.

She began to walk towards my bed, sitting on the edge. She pushed my bangs back and kissed my forehead. And surprisingly, she hugged me. It was unusual because I was never close to her. I was always with my dad. But it felt good. She was warm.

I tried to stop my tears, and succeeded. I was only comfortable crying in front of four people: my dad, Aaron, my step-dad, Tim, and Cassie, my best friend. But I was never comfortable sobbing in front of my mother. Why? Because she would cry with me. No one was there to hand me the Kleenexes and say, 'Okay. Just cry it out.'

She slowly moved away from me, and touched my hair. "Sunshine," she whispered, her voice slightly muffled, "remember what Aaron said, it's just a _dream_."

And with that, she left.

She thinks it's just a dream. But _she_ wasn't the one who had to her my father's dream. _She _wasn't the one who had to see the pool of blood surrounding my father. _She_ wasn't there to see their eyes....

I closed my eyes, trying to capture my ever-so wanted slumber. It was impossible. I glanced at the window….and quickly regretted it.

At the moment, I thought I caught a glimpse of those murderous blood-red eyes.

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Well, that was the first chapter. Tell me what you think!

Always R&R,


	2. Two

**Chill**

His eyes were the strangest shade of honey gold. Unwanted memories began to invade my mind. The murder, the creatures.....Those eyes. I remembered the eyes of my father's killers.

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews(: !

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**_T_**wo

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The nightmare was like a blur to me. I couldn't remember it now, but I do remember the screams. After I finished taking my shower, I looked inside my closet. A black 1/2 sleeve v-neck shirt with a faded mini-skirt. I blow-dryed my hair and skipped downstairs, my black Converse, black beret, and necklace in hand. My necklace the only thing I cherished. It was a gift from my father, before he died. I've never taken it off_, never_.

My mother was on the last step when I came down, giving me one of her bright smiles. That's one thing I love about her. Her smiles.

"Morning, sunshine!" she greeted, kissing my forehead. "Breakfast's ready, go eat!"

When I arrived in the kitchen, Tim was having trouble with his toast and Anton was reading the newspaper. We were like a typically family. Except with the steps. Anton Baker is a good man. But nothing like my father. He enjoys family time, but he takes his work too seriously. My father was laidback, silly, and a laugh out loud. Now I miss him _more_.

"Tim, be careful with your fork," Anton scolded, while Timothy stuck his tongue out at him. I giggled and took a seat beside him. He was dressed regular. Black polo shirt, skinny jeans, and converse. I just hated that fact that _sometimes _his skinny jeans are TIGHTER than mine. Ew. I nudged him with my elbow, making him yelp loudly. My mother scolded him, while his father grinned.

"Charlotte Audrey Lemaire," my mother started, "be good in school today, 'kay?" I hate it when she uses my full name. She changed her's to Camille Baker, but I refused to change mine. It belongs to my father, and I won't lose that. He was French, and I love that about him.

Charlotte Audrey Lemaire. A French-American girl who was born in Paris, France, but was raised here in Evadon, Maine. Charlotte is a name that was quite well-known, but I utterly despised my name. It was a bit too girly, a bit too not me. But I had friends, and Tim, who have supplied me with numerous and silly nicknames. To my mother, I was either her sunshine or sweetheart. She keeps re-telling me about the day I was born. She tells me that it was the perfect day outside, and I was born exactly at noon. Where the sun is at it's highest. And as for sweetheart, I really don't listen. To my father, I was always Audrey. He only called me 'Charlotte' when I was in trouble. But I was always Audrey to him, his only daughter that shared her middle name with her grandmother. And to my friends. I was always Char-Char, Cha, or anything else they could come up with.

"Mom, aren't I always?" I paused, glaring at Tim, who was sniggering, "It's Tim that always causes the trouble,"

It was true. Even though Tim is only two months older than me, he was the one who causes the most trouble in school. He's seventeen, while I'm still sixteen. But when October 27, I would soon feel the 'adultness' (Tim calls it that). My birthday, being only four days away from Halloween, was always a costume party. Not that I mind or anything.

Tim threw daggers in my directions. "Char, zip it," Anton monotonely said.

We finished our breakfast and waved them goodbye. I was too lazy to drive, and so Timothy did all the work. Evadon, Maine is a sunny sunny place. The mountains were breathtaking, but everything was always interesting to me.

Our school was just around the corner. Green Hills High School. I stepped out, already being greeted by my best friend, Cassie Joans.

Practically being neighbors with her all my life, I've grown very attached to her, resulting on us being 'friends since diapers' best friends. While I was a more calm and reserved person, Abigail was the complete opposite. She was always the life of the party, bringing joy to everyone's life. I've never actually seen her cry. Maybe once or twice, but it was always because we were watching a sad romantic movie. I smiled and waved.

"Char Char!" she squealed, hugging me, "Good Morning!"

Yes, she is a total social butterfly. I like to keep things to myself, most of the time. But she's always there for me, no matter what the situation was.

My books were heavy, and I was barely looking at where I was going. The hallways were crowded, as usual. I began thinking about my homework and the essay that was due in third period.

The school hallways were very distacting. Posters were all over the walls and lockers, all printed in bright neon contruction papers. I noticed the 'TRY OUT FOR MARCHING BAND!' and 'CHEERLEADING TRY-OUTS, NEXT WEEK!' posters and grinned. I've played the clarinet, but stopped when I entered the seventh grade. I always thought of myself as nerdy, and so tried out for cheerleading. With my new-found popularity, I met a lot of interesting people. But with popularity comes betrayal and the rest of cheerleading was history.

I never even noticed that I actually collided with someone.

The chest I bumped into was rock-hard solid. I dropped my books in shock, quickly kneeling down to retrieve them. The person kneeled down too, grabbing my journal.

My eyes averted to his hand. It was pale white, and perfectly still. His finger had a ring on. Purity ring? A promise?

"I think this belongs to you," a tantalizing voice stated, making me instantly look up.

He was breathtakingly _gorgeous_. Beyond Romeo or Chace Crawford. His lips formed a perfect smile, which made me smile also. I grabbed my journal and instantly felt stupid. I never looked up to his full face.

I was about to walk the pass him, but my brain told me that ignoring a boy that seemed practically perfect was not acceptable.

"I'm Anthony Illuminati," he introduced, putting his hand out. I thought for a moment. Introduce myself or not? It would be polite, but he was a stanger. But still....

I took his hand and shook it. Why was his hand so cold? Was he holding ICE before coming to school? Plus, it's August. It's barely even _autumn_.

"I'm Charlotte Lemaire," I paused, "but you can call me Char," I looked up at his face.

And oh, I wish I really didn't.

His eyes were the strangest shade of honey gold. Unwanted memories began to invade my mind. The murder, the creatures.....

My mouth did not know how to function. It remained opened. I was remembering my dream, vividly in my head. It was like a slideshow, only showing the important pictures. The blood cascading down their chins, their skin, their eyes...

I looked up at his face, examining him. How can some stranger that I've never met before...be so familiar and frightening to me? My voice was not cooperating with me, and my words never came out. I gulped. He was looking at me strangely, as if I was just another peculiar girl.

"Umm, are you okay?" he asked me curiously, putting a cold hand on my shoulder.

I flinched and quivered. My ears were booming with my father's screams of pain and the filthy creatures' snarls.

I looked up and saw that his eyes were filled with worry. Worry? For my sake? My breath became ragged and I had the urge to cry.

Those eyes. I remembered the eyes of my father's killers.

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I think I rushed the events a bit _too _fast in this chapter. But I was not satisfied with how I described certain characters. I'll try to elaborate more on them in the next chapter(: !

Always R&R,


	3. Three

**Chill**

_His eyes were the strangest shade of honey gold. Unwanted memories began to invade my mind. The murder, the creatures.....Those eyes. I remembered the eyes of my father's killers._

**A/N:** I'M REEEEEALLY SORRY! I've had writer's block xD

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**T**_h_r**_ee_**

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Anthony Illuminati. His warm honey gold eyes. Perfect pink lips. Hard chest. Soft yet sharp features.

I could not help but think about him. It was very strange, since I have not met him before. But deep down inside, a pulling feeling in my stomach was telling me that his face was one not to forget. The way his eyes locked with mine, the way his eyes reflected his deep emotions, the softness of his hand...I knew I was daydreaming, but I could not resist. He is an enigma.

"Miss Lemaire!"

I snapped out of my daydreams and looked up at Mrs. Oscar's stern face. I blushed. I guess I was caught. Then, my eyes caught a glimpse of something familiar, once again.

The girl was petite, with black curls and piercing eyes. She was pale, practically translucent. She was tall, curvacious, but her body language faintly screamed 'DO NOT MESS WITH'. I gulped. She was searching the room, most probably memorizing faces, when suddenly, her eyes directed to me. And there it was again. Those damn honey gold eyes. I shuddered, trying to erase the eyes of my father's murderers. I noticed her other features. When she looked at me, her eyes instantly softened, as if she recognized my presence. Her lips were glossy, pink, and was radiating a simple sunny smile.

"Uhh, yes, Mrs. Oscar?" I asked, my voice quivering. I looked to my side. Another damn. An empty seat. Was today my bad day?

Mrs. Oscar cleared her throat. "This is Arcely Illuminati, she's new." Geez, really? "And you will be her guide."

I was petrified. Me? Charlotte? Today was filled with surprises. And I'm not looking for it. Slowly, Arcely danced towards her seat, every move that she made reminded me of a dancer's. Or like the wind. Whichever one looked prettier. She was even painfully beautiful up close. I forced myself to breath. Was she perhaps related to Anthony?

"Are you Audrey?" she asked me, her melodic voice nearly putting me in a daze.

I choked on my words. How did she know my name? Better yet, my middle name? "Um, you called me Audrey." Now that sounded dumb.

She beamed. "Well, I saw the roll sheet, and it said Lemaire, Charlotte Audrey," she paused, taking a breath, "and I don't know. Calling you Audrey just seemed fun!" I looked at her, trying not to look like an idiot. What's with her? She went from 'Back away!' or 'Hi! I'm Miss Sunny!' in five seconds flat. Is she REALLY related to Anthony?

"Uhh, thanks. I guess." I said, hoping thing would not get awkward. "Um, are you related to Anthony Illuminati?"

Arcely's smile seemed to falter, but then she regained her shine. A warm feeling came over me, and forced me to smile back. "Yeah! He's my older brother," she paused, rolling her eyes, "Isn't he a pain?"

"Miss Illuminati? Miss Lemaire? Please cut the chit-chat and pay attention!" Mrs. Oscar hissed. Arcely smirked and looked at her directly in the eye. For some reason, Mrs. Oscar looked like she was in a trance.

"Why yes, Mrs. Oscar. Charlotte and I deeply apologize for being rude and disruptive." Her smile was so sweet. _Too_ sweet. The class looked like they didn't care, but Mrs. Oscar was a statue.

Arcely tore her gaze away from Mrs. Oscar and turned to me. "Class, free time for the rest of the period!" our uptight teacher suddenly said in a bright voice. I quickly turned my head towards the new Illuminati girl.

She was able to get Mrs. Oscar to give us free time with just a simple sweet smile. She made _me_ smile with a simple gaze. Who is she? Better yet, how was she _manipulating _everyone to do what _she_ wishes? I stifled a shudder. I lifted my head, only to encounter Arcely's shining eyes.

"How did you get Oscar to _give_ us free time?" I curiously whispered, fondling with my pencil. Arcely giggled and sighed. It was like the room was filled with chirping birds and chimes.

She grinned from side to side and gave me a look that even I couldn't recognize.

"Sweetness comes in _many_ flavors, my dear Audrey."

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**GAHHHH! Arcely Illuminati is now in the storyy! Anyway, I'm soooo sorry for not updating for so long. I've been suuper busy. 8th grade is much hardd! Don't forget to read and review :D**

xoxo,  
_kennyylove_


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